


Sick as a Bug

by whumphoarder



Series: Cassie & Peter Being Buds [3]
Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Awesome May Parker (Spider-Man), Babysitting, Domestic Fluff, Fever, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hair Braiding, Hurt/Comfort, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Sick Cassie Lang, Sickfic, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-26 17:00:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18183311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whumphoarder/pseuds/whumphoarder
Summary: While Scott goes off on a mission with the Avengers, Peter volunteers to babysit ten-year-old Cassie Lang at his apartment. Things are going pretty well until Cassie comes down with the flu, thrusting the teenager into a caretaking role that's a bit above his paygrade.





	Sick as a Bug

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to [Sally](https://sallyidss.tumblr.com/) and [Cat](https://xxx-cat-xxx.tumblr.com/) for beta reading and encouragement!

“How’s it going, Peanut?” Scott Lang asked over the FaceTime call.  
 ****

“Pretty good,” Cassie assured him. “We were playing tag in Peter’s apartment all morning, which was really fun because he let me wear his old suit and use the web-shooters!”

Peter took the phone from her and flipped the camera around to get Cassie’s whole outfit in the shot. The ten-year-old was wearing his homemade Spider-Man onesie, the sleeves and pant legs rolled-up to adjust for their height difference. She grinned and did a quick twirl for the camera.

Scott gave a low whistle. “Lookin’ sharp!” he remarked as Peter handed the phone back.

Cassie went on, “And then we walked to this sandwich shop for lunch and there was this really fat cat named Murph who liked to eat meatballs! You’d probably like him, even though you’re allergic,” she rambled. “How’s your mission going?”

“We’re still in the stakeout phase, so nothing too exciting yet. Unless you count beating Captain America at Uno three rounds in a row,” Scott replied with a smirk. “Did you finish all your homework?”

“Yeah, Peter helped me with the math,” Cassie said, glancing sideways at the teenager. “It was about fractions, so we practiced on some Hershey bars.”

Scott quirked an eyebrow at her. “I thought you were good at fractions?”

“I am.” Cassie shrugged. “I like chocolate.”

Scott chuckled and shook his head slowly. “Alright, well I just wanted to check in because I’ll have to turn off my phone now, but Peter has the number for the direct line to Mr. Stark’s suit, so I’m still here if there’s an emergency, okay?”

“Yeah I know,” she said, nodding. “We’re fine, daddy. And Peter’s really fun.”

“He better be—I’m paying him twelve bucks an hour,” Scott deadpanned.

Peter grinned and stuck his head in the frame. “Hey, you’re getting a _super_ sitter,” he pointed out. “I feel like twelve is a bargain.”

“Touché,” Scott allowed. Addressing Cassie again, he said, “Alright, Mr. Stark wants to talk to Peter before we hang up so I’m gonna give him the phone now. Love you, Peanut.”

“Love you too,” she said, waving at him.

Cassie handed the phone back to Peter as Scott passed his to Tony.

“Uh, hey Mr. Stark,” Peter greeted as casually as he could manage. He figured he had a pretty good idea of what this call was about.

“Peter.” Through the camera, Tony cast him an unamused look. “Care to explain why I got an alert from Karen that you fired sixteen web grenades this morning?”

Peter rubbed one hand awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Um… so, it was part of a game we were playing…” He glanced back over his shoulder at the mess of tangled webs in the corner of his bedroom. An array of his old plastic action figures was suspended throughout. “But, uh, we’re done with that now.”

“Yeah, well I doubt May appreciates you shooting webs around her property any more than I do,” Tony retorted. “So maybe lay off the vigilante act for one day, _capisce_?”

“Yeah, for sure, no problem,” Peter agreed easily.

“And kid?”

“Yeah?”

Tony held up a stern finger to the camera. “Don’t show her the taser webs.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Peter glanced at the homemade construction paper bullseye affixed to his closet door, covered in the sticky, still-buzzing web remnants. “Of course not, Mr. Stark.”

**X**

It had become a sort of tradition that Peter would watch Cassie anytime Scott was called into New York for a mission during one of his custody weekends. Honestly, Peter loved it—he’d do it even without the money (though he had no intention of telling Scott that anytime soon). Cassie was smart and funny, and it was nice getting to show off his Spider-Man equipment and powers to someone with just as much childlike enthusiasm as him.

After hanging up with Tony, the two spent the next few hours alternating between rounds of Wii bowling and building an elaborate Lego city before eventually switching over to hide and seek. Currently, Peter was sitting crouched in the front hall closet on a pile of winter boots, playing Tetris on his phone while he waited for Cassie to find him.

When he hit the next level, Peter paused the game and frowned at the time display on his screen. It’d been eight minutes since Cassie had first started counting—far longer than it should be taking her to discover his admittedly-not-great hiding place.

He opened the closet door. “Cassie?” he called, wincing as he unfolded his stiff legs and pulled himself to his feet. “Did you give up?”

But there was no response. His senses on edge, Peter made his way back to the living room, hoping that the girl was simply playing a trick on him.

Instead, he found her curled up on the end of the sofa, head resting on the armrest, fast asleep.

_Alright, nap time it is._

Peter retrieved a fuzzy blanket from his bedroom and draped it over her sleeping form before plopping down in a nearby armchair to resume his game.

**X**

While Cassie slept, Peter finished his Spanish homework and tidied up his room a bit—the new web solvent he and Ned had concocted in chemistry was a godsend—and then prepared a box of mac and cheese. When it was done cooking, he padded back into the living room and tapped the sleeping girl’s shoulder.

“Hey Cassie?” he whispered.

With a groan, Cassie tugged the blanket tighter around herself and rolled away from him to face the back cushion.

Peter frowned and sat down behind her knees on the edge of the sofa. “Cassie?” he tried again. “You awake?”

She made a small, non-committal noise in her throat before blinking slowly up at him. “What time is it?” she murmured.

Pulling the blanket off of her, he tossed it to the other end of the sofa. “Like 5:30,” he replied as she sat up. “You were asleep like, two hours—I guess all the Spider-Manning wore you out.”

“Oh.” She yawned and rubbed at her eyes sleepily. “‘M’tired.”

“I can see that,” he laughed, getting to his feet. “But if you nap for too long now, you’ll be awake all night, and then your dad won’t let you hang out with me anymore.”

“Luis once let me drink two whole cans of Monster and he’s still allowed to watch me,” Cassie argued sleepily.

Peter snorted. “Probably shouldn’t test that.” He offered her a hand. “C’mon, let’s go eat.”

Cassie took his hand and followed him to the table where he had two steaming bowls of mac and cheese waiting. Peter wasted no time in digging into his own portion, but after watching Cassie half-heartedly poke at the noodles with her fork for several minutes, he paused.

“Do you not like mac and cheese?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I do. I’m just not very hungry.” Her gaze fell to her lap and then in a quieter voice, she asked, “Do you know what time daddy’s coming back?”

Peter gave her a sad smile; despite how supportive Cassie was of her dad’s role with the Avengers, he knew she couldn’t help getting anxious when Scott went on missions. “Not until late tonight,” he said gently. “Do you miss him?”

Cassie hesitated a moment before nodding a bit.

“It’s okay—he’ll be back soon enough,” Peter assured. “He’s got Black Widow, Captain America, _and_ Iron Man with him, so he’s like, triple safe.”

A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Yeah, and I made him take Antastasia with him—she’s the best flier.”

“See?” he said with a grin. “He’s got a whole team to take care of him.”

She sighed. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Figuring a distraction was in order, Peter changed the subject to Cassie’s new soccer team. She chatted with him—a bit less animatedly than usual—and managed a few bites before claiming she was full and heading back to the living room to curl up on the sofa with the blanket.

Peter sat down on the other end of the sofa. “Wanna watch something?” he offered. “Moana is on Netflix now.”

She shrugged tiredly. “‘Kay.”

As the movie played, Peter couldn’t help but notice how quiet Cassie seemed, but he figured it was just related to the mission. Scott had been gone nearly ten hours by that point, and depending on how the stakeout went, it could easily be another ten before he returned.

They’d made it about half-way through the movie when Cassie broke the silence. “Peter?” she asked, her voice a bit strained.

“Yeah?” He glanced over and immediately grew concerned when he saw the obvious discomfort in her expression. ”You okay?”

Cassie’s face had drained of color. She shook her head slightly. “My tummy doesn’t feel good.”

“Oh.” He paused the movie, focusing his full attention on Cassie as she swallowed hard. “Um… how? Like, you’re gonna be sick?”

She nodded, pushing herself up to sitting.

“Okay, uh”—Peter’s eyes darted around the room nervously—“let’s go to the bathroom then.” He untangled the blanket from her and quickly helped her up from the sofa and down the hall. She was trembling as he guided her down to kneel in front of the toilet.

“I don’t wanna throw up...” Cassie moaned, staring into the water.

Peter rubbed her back gently. “I know, I’m sorry, but you’ll feel better once it’s over,” he promised.

They sat like that for a few minutes, Cassie whimpering quietly between shallow breaths and Peter doing his best to comfort her before she suddenly leaned forward and started gagging into the bowl.

Peter winced in sympathy as she coughed up the few bites she’d managed of dinner, followed by her lunch. “Aw, Cassie…” he said softly. Strands of her long hair were hanging dangerously close to her mouth, so he gathered them together and held them up away from her face.

Tiny sobs were coming out in between Cassie’s retches and her whole body was trembling. Peter’s heart clenched; he’d never actually had to deal with a sick kid before.

When it seemed like she was done, Peter got to his feet and wet a washcloth with warm water at the sink. He crouched back down and carefully wiped the tears and vomit from her face, feeling totally out of his depth.

“I can try calling your dad,” he offered. “I don’t know if he’ll be able to pick up right away, but...”

To his surprise, fresh tears welled up in Cassie’s eyes at his words. She rubbed them away with the back of her hand, shaking her head. “No, don’t,” she begged, her voice coming out broken. “He was really excited to go on a real mission. I don’t want him to come home early just because I got sick.”

Looking into Cassie’s pleading eyes, Peter hesitated. He wished he’d gotten a bit more clarification on the definition of an ‘emergency’ before Scott had left—did a puking kid count, or was something only an emergency if it reached emergency room level? Maybe this was just a part of babysitting he’d been lucky enough to avoid up until now.

Peter let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair as he debated what to do.

Finally, he pulled out his phone and pressed the first contact on his favorites list.

**X**

Half an hour later, Peter heard the sound of the apartment’s front door unlocking. Being mindful of the sleeping girl curled up beside him on the sofa, he carefully pushed himself up and crept towards the door.

May was standing there in the entryway, hanging her keys on the hook. “Hey,” she greeted quietly. She slipped off her coat, revealing the pink hospital scrubs underneath. “How’s she doing?”

Peter shrugged. “She’s not throwing up anymore at least. I think she has a fever but I couldn’t find the thermometer so I couldn’t check.” Sheepishly, he rubbed at the back of his neck. “I’m sorry to make you leave work early, I just didn’t know what to do…”

“No, sweetie, I’m glad you called,” May assured. She stepped forward to pull him into a warm hug; Peter hadn’t realized how tense he was until the feeling melted away in her embrace. “Plus, it’s been a while since I got to use the ‘I have a sick kid at home’ excuse,” she added.

As Peter released her, he huffed out a quick laugh. “Yeah, well, Mr. Stark made me promise to start telling adults when there are problems. It was my New Years resolution.”

She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest in mock offense. “Oh, so _Mr. Stark_ tells you what I’ve been telling you for _years,_ and suddenly you listen?”

Peter grinned. “Better late than never, right?”

Rolling her eyes good-naturedly, May headed to her room to change out of her uniform as Peter slipped back into the living room to resume his vigil by the sleeping girl. Cassie was dressed in her pajamas now and a small trash can was resting beside the sofa. Every so often she would let out a tiny moan.

May returned a few minutes later dressed in yoga pants and a long-sleeve t-shirt, hair pulled up in a bun. She was carrying the very same digital thermometer Peter hadn’t been able to locate.

“Oh.” He frowned at the device. “Where was it?”

“In the bathroom. Same drawer it’s always in,” she said with a look of amusement. She held it out to him. “Here, you wanna give it a try?”

Peter took the thermometer and carefully inserted it into Cassie’s ear. She stirred a bit, but didn’t wake. When it beeped, he pulled it out and flipped the device around to read the screen. “It says 100.8,” he reported. “That’s a fever, right?”

May hummed affirmatively. “Not a very high one, but yes. We’ll keep an eye on it. And you said she’s only thrown up once?”

“Yeah, so far,” Peter confirmed. “She just seems really tired, and before she fell asleep she was starting to get a cough and saying she kind of aches all over.”

“Sounds like the flu,” May said sympathetically. “Just have to watch her temperature and make sure she’s drinking lots of fluids. Have you texted Scott yet?”

Peter shook his head. “No, I didn’t wanna worry him since I wasn’t sure if he could come back or not.”

“I would say text him anyway,” she advised. “Parents usually like to know these things, even if they make them worry. That’s kinda part of the job.”

While Peter typed out the message, she smoothed Cassie’s hair back away from her sweaty face. The little girl stirred again at the touch and this time blinked up at them, looking momentarily disoriented.

“Hey, honey,” May said softly. “How are you feeling?”

Shrugging slightly, Cassie pulled the blanket tighter around herself, coughing a few times.

“That good, huh?” May hummed. As Cassie shifted to sitting, May got up from the floor and slid in between her and the armrest. Turning to Peter, she said, “If you need a break, I can take over for a while.”

With a half-smile, Peter sat down on Cassie’s opposite side. “Nah, that’s okay. We were almost to my favorite part in the movie—that song with the bedazzled crab.”

“His name is Tamatoa,” Cassie corrected in a murmur. “Fake fan.”

“I’m gonna call him Mr. Shiny,” Peter announced with a grin. He grabbed the remote to unpause the movie.

They made it another thirty minutes before Cassie suddenly sat up and started gagging into the trash can.

This time, May held Cassie’s hair and rubbed her back as she heaved. Peter sat there, feeling awkward and unsure of what to do. May seemed to sense his unease.

“Hey Peter?” she said, glancing over at him while Cassie continued to vomit. “Can you go see if we have any Gatorade in the pantry? And can you get a wet washcloth and some hair ties from the bathroom?”

“Yeah, sure,” he agreed gratefully and hopped up from the sofa.

When he returned with the requested items, he found the two sitting back on the sofa, his aunt gently stroking Cassie’s hair. Cassie looked even more drained than before, and she barely reacted as May took the cloth from him and wiped her face.

“Cassie? You okay?” Peter asked in concern, but she only made a small noise in her throat and blinked back at him blankly.

“Too hot,” she mumbled.

“I just took her temp again. Fever’s up to 102 now,” May informed, still combing through Cassie’s hair with her fingers.

Peter put a straw in the Gatorade bottle and held it to Cassie’s lips so she could take a sip. “Is that bad?” he asked worriedly.

“Not necessarily,” she replied. “Fevers fluctuate—it’s just the body’s way of fighting infection. If it goes any higher, we’ll give her some Tylenol.”

Peter relaxed a bit; he’d never been more grateful to have a nurse for an aunt. Once Cassie had gotten her drink, she lay back down with her head on May’s lap, blanket abandoned, and they resumed the movie. But Peter was distracted, watching as May idly sectioned the girl’s hair into parts and began to braid it. Cassie slipped back to sleep, seeming finally content.

“How do you do that?” he asked after a bit.

She glanced at him. “Do what? French braid?”

“Yeah,” he said, but that was only part of his question. He was really asking about her whole presence—how did she manage to radiate comfort to the point that a sick child who only vaguely knew her just curled up on her lap and slept, looking calmer than she had in hours?

“Practice,” was her reply, which he supposed covered both questions. May nodded down at the braid. “Here, hold this piece.”

Peter took the section of hair from her and she showed him how to weave it with the other parts, pulling more strands in as they went. The finished braids were loose and uneven, pieces falling out the sides, but May assured him it was alright for a first attempt.

“You know,” she said casually, “if you ever take a night off from patrolling, we can order some take-out and I’ll teach you how to do a fishtail too. You can expand your repertoire.”

He smiled a bit. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

**X**

It was past midnight by the time Tony and Scott made it back to the apartment. Cassie was stretched out on the sofa’s pull-out bed now, cuddled up under blankets while Peter dozed in the adjacent armchair. Both kids woke as May opened the front door and led the two men into the living room.  

Tony stopped just inside the room’s threshold, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and muttering something about kids being germ factories when May offered him a seat. Meanwhile, Scott headed straight over to sit on the edge of the mattress.

“Hey Peanut,” he greeted quietly, cupping Cassie’s forehead in his palm. “How’re you doing?”

“’M ‘kay,” she mumbled. “How was the mission?”

He gave a short laugh. “Kinda boring, honestly. The stakeout ended up being the most exciting part—once we actually stormed in, the bad guys surrendered on the spot.”

(Peter was pretty sure there was more to it than that, judging from the slight limp Tony had displayed walking in and the way his left arm was currently braced against his ribcage—the real reason he assumed the man didn’t want to leave the support of the wall—along with the bruises just visible beneath the rim of Scott’s t-shirt. But the teenager kept his thoughts to himself.)

“Oh,” Cassie said through a yawn. It morphed into a few coughs at the end. “That’s lame.”

Scott smiled and smoothed her hair. “Thank you so much for looking after her, both of you,” he said sincerely, glancing back to each May and Peter in turn. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it back sooner.”

“It’s fine,” Peter assured. “We had fun for the most part.”

“Yeah, we did,” Cassie said sleepily. “He even let me fire his taser webs.”

“ _Peter!_ ” Tony and May both snapped while Scott gave him a confused look.

“She’s got a fever—she’s delirious,” Peter said quickly. “Doesn’t even know what she’s saying. Right, Cassie?” He gave the girl a pointed look.

“Who’s Cassie?” she asked innocently.

Before the adults could say anything else, she broke into an unexpectedly violent coughing fit, diverting Scott and May’s attention as they helped her sit up on the bed and rubbed her back. Still hacking, the ten-year-old shot him a wink.

Tony, having seen the whole exchange from his position in the doorway, just rolled his eyes. “Great, he's got a sidekick now...” he muttered.

**Author's Note:**

> (This fic gave me so much trouble omg. I think it's because I had such a clear picture in my head about the vibe I wanted it to have, but trying to translate that to the page was like pulling teeth. I still didn't hit exactly what I was going for, but hopefully y'all enjoy it anyway.)
> 
> Comments are always appreciated <3
> 
> Come and hang out on tumblr if you'd like! My url is [whumphoarder](https://whumphoarder.tumblr.com/)


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